


A Short Break

by evelynIttor



Series: Hurt/Comfort Comment Fic [1]
Category: Supernatural
Genre: Comment Fic, Gen, Hurt/Comfort, Sneezing
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-12-20
Updated: 2014-12-20
Packaged: 2018-03-02 07:37:06
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,062
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/2804669
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/evelynIttor/pseuds/evelynIttor
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Dean is sick and crashes hard at the motel. Before he passes out, he tells Sam to wake him up when it's time to go out to do the dirty work (maybe it's a late night salt & burn? Or maybe they need to break in somewhere that will be deserted at night?). But when the time comes for them to leave, Sam doesn't have the heart to wake Dean up, so he deals with it on his own. Set in season 2. <br/>Written in April 2014 for <a href="http://tarotgal.livejournal.com/905764.html">ALLTHEFANDOMS! ALLTHESNEEZES! a comment fic meme</a></p>
            </blockquote>





	A Short Break

 

“This is it.” Sam pointed somewhere on the map of the county he’d managed to dig up in the library.  


  
Dean shook his head a little, trying to clear the cobwebs from his brain. “It’s in the middle of town.”  


  
Sam flipped forward in the book to the current area map. “Oh yeah, it’s their biggest cemetery. We’ll have to go tonight.”  


  
Dean glanced to the door, he was ready to blow this joint and find a motel to hole up in for a few hours. He’d been feeling off all week and it was starting to get to the point where he would have to do something beyond discretely popping a couple Tylenol every few hours. “Motel time?”  


  
“Unless you want to eat first.” Sam shrugged. “I’m kinda hungry.”  


  
Dean wiped his sleeve over his nose. He wasn’t hungry and if he didn’t get a handle on this soon, he wouldn’t be able to sleep it off before it was time to dig. “Take out?”  


  
Sam nodded and headed into the stacks behind them with the book. Dean sighed and leaned back in the hard library chair. Sam always had to put the books away, he couldn’t just drop them and go.   


  
Once Sam had finished putting away his books and thanking the librarian or whatever crap he wasted time doing, Dean put his foot down and drove them back to the motel they’d passed on their way into town. It was a little close to the freeway, but his nose was felt as if it was about to start dripping everywhere and there was a feeling growing in his throat that a hot shower might still conquer.   


  
“I thought we were getting food.” Sam protested when Dean ground to halt and nearly jumped out of the car.  


  
“I’ll get a room.” Dean grumbled, keeping his voice low so Sam couldn’t hear how clogged his throat was.  


  
Their room was a little on the grubby side, but Dean tossed his bag on the bed and slammed the door to the bathroom shut. “Takin’ a shower!” He called out as he twisted the tap to full strength and shed his clothes.  


  
The pressure wasn’t terrible and the water was warm as it ran over his face and mixed with the liquid dripping from his nose. Dean sniffed and shook his head, that feeling was building up again. He sneezed loudly and wetly and stilled for a moment, listening to see if Sam had noticed the noise. He didn’t hear anything and the feeling built again, he let loose a series of sneezes that left his face damp and his nose twitching painfully.  


  
With the water rapidly cooling, he rinsed off and turned off the water. As luck would have it, the second the sound of pounding water stopped, he replaced it with powerful, painful, wet sneezes. No way Sam hadn’t heard them.  


  
He had to walk back into the room with just a towel wrapped around his waist since he’d left his duffle on one of the beds. It was cold out there and a cloud of steam was slowly seeping out of the bathroom. Sam wasn’t in there and Dean took that as a moment’s reprieve. They had to get this grave dug up tonight and he was going to need every moment to make that happen.  


  
Dean dug a pair of sweatpants out of his duffle and towelled his hair until it stopped dripping before collapsing into bed. He sighed as he sunk into the mattress and pulled the blankets up around his body. This was nice. He closed his eyes and sleep came quickly.  


  
“Dean.” Sam’s voice was low and gentle but it still pounded in Dean’s head. He opened his eyes, squinting at the bright light coming from the bedside table.  


  
“Wha?” He asked, his mouth felt furry and his nose was blocked up enough that he could hardly breathe.

 

“You’re sick.”  
  


“I’m okay.” Dean protested, pushing himself into a sitting position. He felt a million times worse than he had before his shower and nap.   


  
“Sure you are. Here, I got you some stuff.” Sam handed him a glass of water, the cool glass felt like heaven in his hand. “There’s some kleenex on the table here and these should make you feel better.” He deposited a number of pills into Dean’s hand.  


  
“Hmm.” Dean grumbled, but he took the pills and drank the water. “What time is it?”  


 

“About an hour since your shower.” Sam replied. “Go back to sleep.”   


  
Dean nodded and curled back up in the blankets. “Wake me up when it’s time to go. It’s gonna be a tough one.”  


  
“Sure.” Sam answered and he clicked off the light near the beds and started booting up his laptop. Dean’s breathing changed, deepening and growing more nasal as he sunk into sleep. By the time the login screen had appeared, he was snoring loudly.  
  


Sam wasted a couple of hours scanning the Internet, alternating between looking for new hunts and double checking the information on their current enterprise. He wanted to leave and get something to eat but he’d blown most of his budget on a fresh supply of cold meds. The regular supply in the First Aid kit had been demolished though he couldn’t remember the last time either of them had been ill.  
  


An hour after sundown, Sam moved around carefully, trying not to wake Dean. His efforts were unneeded, between the cold pills and Dean’s exhaustion, nothing sort of an earthquake was going to wake him. When he’d dressed in digging clothes and found his work gloves at the bottom of his duffle, Sam paused to look at Dean.  


  
He looked so small and sad curled up in bed. His face was pale, save for his red nose and his hands clutched at the blanket bunched up around his chest. He was still snoring and Sam reached out to shake him awake and couldn’t.  
  


Dean was always driving or working or pretending that terrible things hadn’t happened. He deserved this break. Sam scribbled out a quick note and put it on the side table. With any luck Dean would sleep through the night and he’d get back before he woke up, but just in case.   
  


“Feel better.” He whispered in his brother’s direction before slipping out to get the job done.


End file.
